


Flash Flash, Boom Boom

by saekokato



Category: Bandom: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-10
Updated: 2009-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekokato/pseuds/saekokato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something about thunderstorms that make Bob want to fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flash Flash, Boom Boom

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic way back in June, when the White Mountains were starting the six straight weeks of rain. That was fun. Anyway, apparently rain makes Bob want to fuck and makes me want to write about Bob being fucked. I call that a win-win. Also, crack. Lots and lots of self-indulgent crack that apparently grew a little bit of a plot. Maybe. If you squint really, really hard.

There is something about thunderstorms that make Bob want to fuck. Or be fucked. He isn't really picky about what he gets up to when the urge hits, other than wanting it to involve cock and orgasms. As long as those two nouns are involved, preferably in abundant numbers, then he's a happy person. Cocks and orgasms are awesome companions to thunderstorms.

"Dude, the fuck are you talking about?" Mikey demands. He's in the middle of beating the pants off his brother and Ray at Go Fish. Literally. Bob had never heard of Strip Fish before he met My Chemical Romance, but it is hardly the strangest thing he's seen them do. Right now, Mikey is down to his last t-shirt and jeans, but both Ray and Gerard are down to their boxers and socks. Mikey is a shark at Go Fish, any version, which is why Bob refuses to play with him. That, and Bob really likes wearing his clothing.

Except, what with the thunderstorm currently raging outside of the hotel, Bob would rather not be wearing any clothing. Clothes tend to get in the way of fucking. And Bob would really like to be fucking right now.

"Whoa! Too much information," Ray points out kindly. Then again, unless someone has threatened his family or his band, Ray tends to always sound kind. Also like an unsocialized metal-head geek - but a kind one. "Maybe you should find yourself a girl."

"Ray, please stop pushing the hetero-normative social agenda," Gerard asks primly. He pushes his hair out of his face to fix a stern look on Ray. "Besides, Bob just said he wanted cock involved."

Ray shrugs. "Okay. Bob, maybe you should find yourself a guy."

But Bob just sighs and shakes his head. He's laying down on the queen-sized bed not currently being used for Strip Fish and staring at the ceiling in an attempt not to stare at his bandmates. His married bandmates. He may be the asshole with a raging set of crushes on his bandmates, but he's not the asshole that'll be blatantly obvious about it.

"Dude, you're not an asshole," Mikey tells him.

Bob blinks. He's also usually not the type of guy who just says what he's thinking without realizing it. Fuck.

"Fuck."

Gerard's head appears above his own. "Dude, you have a crush on all of us? Since when? Why didn't you say anything?"

Bob feels his face go hot. Maybe if he closes his eyes all this will just go away, and he'll open them to find Mikey destroying Ray and Gerard at Strip Fish again. Bob closes his eyes.

And opens them to see Gerard peering down at him curiously. Fuck.

"You already said that," Mikey points out. "Also, Gee, back off. You're freaking Bob out. And that's weird." Mikey appears on Bob's other side. He pushes at Gerard's shoulder to get him to move, but Gerard just sways backwards and then back to where he began with Mikey's hand still on his shoulder. He also doesn't look away from Bob's face.

"I'm not freaking out," Bob tells them. He's lying through his teeth, but he figures that's better than talking about all this. The ground opening up and swallowing him whole would also be better than talking about all this. Like a lot.

"You shouldn't lie to us, Bob. It's mean." Ray is now next to Gerard, half leaning over him to look at Bob. He sounds a little sad. Bob tries really hard not to think that's adorable. It doesn't really work. Read: at all.

The door to the room opens at that moment, followed closely by Frank tumbling into the room. "Hey, guys, can you believe this fucking storm? Worm and I almost made it back here before the downpour. Fucking sucks, though I did get some fucking awesome candy." Bob hears the rustle of plastic bags being set down, followed by the sound of Frank stripping out of his wet layers. Bob is kind of disturbed that he knows what the sound of Frank stripping sounds like, even if it is the type of unavoidable knowledge that comes with living in cramped spaces for years on end.

"Why are we hovering over Bob half-naked?" Frank asks. He jumps onto the bed next to Mikey, which makes Ray lose his balance. Ray finds it again by steadying himself with a hand on Bob's thigh. Bob tries not to swallow his tongue. Frank continues obliviously, "Are we having an orgy and no one told me? That's not on, guys. Not on at all."

"Frank, Bob has a crush on all of us," Gerard tells him. Bob would normally be trying to kill Gerard, but right now he's distracted by the fact that there are four partially naked men hovering over him, one with his hand firmly pressing down on Bob's thigh, and the fact that he just went from quasi-hard to solid faster than that time in high school with Nick Lamen behind the bleachers during fifth period gym. He may be a tiny bit dizzy.

"Gee, where the hell have you been? Bob's been hard for all of us since he did that tour in Europe. Geeze." Frank rolls his eyes. "How are you all still living, seriously?"

"Really?" Ray asks. He doesn't sound as puzzled as Bob thought he would - not that Bob had thought about this all that often. Too often, anyway.

"Dude, he popped a boner as soon as you put your hand on his thigh. I mean, storms make him horny, but that just says something," Frank explains, gesturing at Bob's cock, which is hidden not at all by his sweatpants. Bob would really like not to be in the room right now. Could a person actually die of mortification?

"Not that I've heard," Mikey tells him. "Though Pete said something the other day about this article he was reading..."

"Mikey, can you please not mention Wentz when we're all in bed together?" Gerard asks. Mikey rolls his eyes, but stops talking about Pete. "Thank you." Gerard turns back to Bob, his earnest face firmly in place. "Bob, you don't need to be mortified, man. It's cool, awesome that you feel that way for all of us. An honor really."

"Honor, schmonor," Frank snorts.

"Frank! It is an honor; you can't be toying with Bob's emotions like that," Gerard snaps.

"I can totally think of something else of Bob's to be toying with, Gee." Frank smirks then reaches down and grabs Bob's cock, giving it a rough pull that has Bob moaning and pushing up into Frank's fist. Bob's hands clutch at the comforter when Ray firmly pushes him back down, not letting him move into Frank's hand at all. "I don't think Bob minds either."

"Frank, Frank, stop!" Gerard scolds. He pulls Frank's hand off of Bob, but before Bob can do more than groan at the loss, Gerard starts pulling down Bob's sweatpants. "You're gonna chafe him. You have to get him naked first."

"Clothing gets in the way of fucking, right, Bob?" Mikey teases. He prods Bob into sitting up long enough to pull off Bob's shirt, then Mikey pushes Bob back down, pinning Bob to the bed at the shoulders. Meanwhile, Gerard and Ray have divested Bob of his pants and Frank is pulling at Bob's cock again, roughsmooth tugs that have Bob's eyes rolling. He has no idea what to think except fuck, about fucking time.

"If you'd wanted this sooner, Bryar, you could've said something," Frank points out. He twists his hand on the head, and Bob presses against the hands holding him to the bed, cursing, "Fuck. _Frankie_ , fuck."

"Hmmm," Gerard murmurs. His hand traces nonsense over Bob's chest; Bob knows it's Gerard's hand, knows all of their hands, the textures, has imagined them against his skin over and over again for years; knows whose hands are where (Mikey's are on Bob's shoulders, nails pressing in; Ray's are on Bob's thighs, holding his legs open and down) even with his eyes closed and his brain melting to utter mush. "We can do that, no problem. Who do you want? Who is first, Bob?"

Gerard plants his hand against Bob's chest and leans down to tug at Bob's lip ring with his teeth, the sensation dragging a moan straight from Bob's chest. "Who gets to stretch you first, Bob? Ray could; I know Ray wants to, and Ray... Ray's big, Bob. So big it'll feel like he's splitting you in two. Then we'll take our turns, one by one, feeling how stretched you are, loose and wanting. You won't want to resist us, Bob. You'll just have to take us, one by one, and you'd love that, wouldn't you, Bob? Feeling so full, so stretched, so _used_."

By the first _stretched_ , Bob is straining against their hands, whimpering bits of words, phrases that boil down to, "Gee. Yes, yes. Guys, please. Fuck, _please_." Gerard just keeps whispering to Bob, lips against Bob's skin, marking him with everything they could do to him, everything they _will_ do to him.

Bob can't figure out what to think, what to do. His hands are clutching the comforter only to release again because he wants to touch, to give back what is being given to him, but he can't bring himself to reach out, make the connection because... What if this isn't real? What if he's back in his bunk dreaming this and if he tries to touch, they just disappear? And he'll wake up - hard, desperate, alone? Bob really, really doesn't want that to happen again.

Mikey shifts above him, one hand sliding down Bob's arm until his hand is being held by Mikey's. Mikey's knees settle against Bob's shoulders, the rough denim scratching at Bob's skin, as Bob's hand is brought to Mikey's mouth, where he bites the meaty flesh of the heel before soothing away the sting with his tongue. "You can touch, Bob. Been dreaming about your hands on us, playing us. Want that, want this, want you."

Mikey slides one of Bob's fingers into his mouth and sucks as Frank traces the underside of Bob's cock with his fingernails, as one of Ray's hands slides forward to cup Bob's balls, as Gerard bites down on the tender skin under Bob's ear, and Bob's gone.

When he can open his eyes again, he's tucked against Mikey's chest with two of Mikey's fingers sinking deep inside of him and Bob's greeted by the sight of both Gerard and Frank going down on Ray. Ray's hands are buried in their hair and his head is thrown back as he moans. Bob promptly chokes on a whimper and wonders idly if he really is dreaming. Or dead. He feels Mikey chuckle against his neck more than he hears it.

Mikey nips at his earlobe. "They're getting him ready for you, Bob. They're making him so hard for you, and he's gonna sink in so slowly." Mikey pulls his fingers out with a sharp twist, then pushes them back in, mirroring his words. Bob gasps and tries to push back on them, but Mikey keeps him pinned to the bed. "Hurry up, Ray. Bob's getting impatient."

"Fuck Bob," Frank mutters, even as he turns his head toward Bob and winks.

Ray pulls Gerard and Frank off of him by their hair. "That's sort of the point, you spastic monkey." Frank twists his head to nip at Ray's arm in retaliation, but Ray is faster, pushing both Frank and Gerard backwards into a tangle on the bed. Frank changes targets mid-shove and starts biting along Gerard's collarbone, his hands moving out of Bob's line of sight to do something that makes Gerard groan and drag Frank's mouth to his.

"Pretty, aren't they, Bob," Ray says. He stays out of Bob's line of sight for another moment before dipping down and kissing him, lips gentle, almost chaste, a total contrast to the hard thrusts of Mikey's fingers (now three) inside of him. The kiss barely lasts long enough for Bob to realize it, then he's being shifted onto his knees with Ray behind him, and Mikey moves over to his brother and Frank, pulling them apart and rearranging them so Bob and Ray can see everything. "So pretty, hmmm?"

Bob chokes on something, maybe a moan, maybe just the air he can't seem to pull into his lungs at the feel of Ray at his back, his hands on Bob's hips, at the sight of Frank leaning back against Gerard while Mikey hovers above them, not touching either except for how Mikey is kissing Frank, long and languid. Something seems off to Bob, their movements too easy for this to be the first time between them - and that would be an awesome image for Bob to ponder, except for how Ray is pressing into him now, pulling Bob onto his cock slowly, so slowly. Just as slowly as Mikey had promised and just as much as Gerard had and Bob's vision sort of blurs for a moment or two.

Bob tunes back into the proceedings to find Ray balls deep within him, still and running his hands up and down Bob's arms, murmuring something against Bob's ear. Bob has to actively force his focus away from just how _stretched_ he is around Ray until the words mean something more than just the way the vibrations feel like they have set up a direct line to his cock.

"Need you to breathe for me, darling. I've got you, just breathe." Bob realizes he's shifted forward and is clutching at the sheets so hard the tension has his wrists seconds away from locking up and that that dizzy feeling isn't just a side effect of Ray's cock in his ass. Bob takes a deep breath and lets go of the sheets, forcing himself to relax against Ray, to focus on how good this feels and not on how fucked up it all is. He can panic when he doesn't have Ray thrusting lazily inside of him, the head of his cock rubbing over his prostate with every other thrust.

"Better, baby. Much better," Ray growls when Bob finally sags against him, head thrown back against Ray's shoulder. He wraps his arms around Bob's chest, pinning Bob's arms beneath his own, holding Bob up just enough, snapping his hips against Bob's with enough force to drag a hoarse shout from him. Bob clings to Ray's arms and rides each thrust out, too drunk on the pleasure to care that he's babbling, begging, "Yes, yes, just like that. Fuck, love this, love you, please, please pleaseplease."

Distantly, over the sound of his own voice and Ray growling in his ear, Bob hears a gasp and Frank groaning, "Fuck, Gee, stop teasing!"

There's the sound of a hand striking flesh. "No, Frank. Stay still. Or you don't get Bob next," Mikey orders. Bob forces his eyes open to see Gerard and Mikey supporting Frank's weight against them with Frank spread wide over their entangled legs. All three of them are watching Ray fuck him, their eyes dark, so intent Bob can feel their gazes running over his skin as sure as if their hands were actually on him.

Bob can't hold any of their gazes for long, though, and his eyes drop to where Gerard is running a finger over the tip of Frank's cock, smearing the leaking liquid. Gerard must see Bob watching because he brings the finger to his mouth, where he licks it clean before sliding it into his mouth to suck hard on it, his cheeks hollowing out. Bob whimpers, his own mouth watering.

"I think Bob wants to suck your cock, Frank," Mikey says. He smirks at Bob, his hand tracing the tense muscles of Frank's inner thigh.

"Of course he does," Frank gasps. "He'll look good doing it, too."

"Yeah, with those fucking cock sucking lips of his," Gerard adds. He leans in to bite at Frank's throat. "He can have it once Ray's done with him." Frank groans in agreement, hips thrusting into air until Mikey pins him again, the flesh around his fingers turning white from the pressure.

Ray bites Bob's earlobe. "If you want Frank's cock, you have to make me come; have to come for me." Bob whines and tries to free a hand to grab at his cock, but Ray chuckles and holds Bob's arms tighter, thrusting harder. "No, just like this, just my cock. I know you can, I know you want to take us there. Then you can have Frankie's cock, baby, have his hands buried in your hair, choking you on his cock..."

Ray changes the angle of his thrusts, dragging his cock over Bob's prostate with every move. Ripples of pleasure quickly fan out into a maelstrom at the sight of the others before him and the thought of Frank just fucking his mouth, driving Bob straight into his orgasm. It only takes another handful of thrusts before Ray's coming, too, whispering, "Yes, yes, Bob, baby. Good, so, so good" against Bob's throat. And that only drives Bob higher, his vision fading out in drunken pleasure.

A gentle hand on his cheek brings Bob back to Gerard watching him. Bob finds it less disconcerting this time around, but he isn't sure if that's because he's wrapped his mind around all of this or if his two orgasms have just left him too sated for worry. He sure as hell doesn't remember ever losing awareness during sex before, but. Whatever. If was going to happen, it was going to happen with these guys and if almost dying for these bastards doesn't prove his trust in them, then nothing will.

"Hi, Bob."

"Hi, Gee," Bob replies. His voice is fucked, deep and grainy. He thinks about sucking Frank's cock and knows he'll be sounding like some straight-from-porn voiceover for the next couple of days. "Hmmm," he hums as he stretches, body pulling taunt from the tips of his toes to the stretch of his fingers above his head, before he lets out a breath and sags back against Ray. He can feel the others' eyes on him and he's feeling really, really relaxed and sort of dangerously happy and, just for a moment, incredibly powerful.

He's just decided to deal with everything he's thinking and feeling later, especially what doesn't add up to him being laid more right now, when Gerard runs his fingers over Bob's mouth, the rough skin on his index finger catching on the equally rough skin of Bob's chapped lips. Bob opens his mouth to lick lazily at the tips of Gerard's fingers before drawing the index finger in with his tongue to suck on it.

Gerard draws in a sharp breath, and Bob watches as his eyes glaze over for a moment before focusing intently on Bob's mouth. Gerard pulls his finger out slowly then presses back in with two. Bob hums around them, his eyes falling closed on Gerard's harsh inhale. Ray's fingers clutch at his hips and, over the rushing in his ears, Bob just barely hears Frank's breathless, pleading, " _Gee_."

A beat later, Gerard pulls his fingers out of Bob's mouth. He leaves them resting against Bob's cheek. "Open your eyes, Bob." When Bob obeys, Gerard asks, "What do you want?"

Bob takes a second to consider that, recalling every dirty scenario Gerard had promised him, every possible act Bob has thought of himself, and Bob knows exactly what he wants: them. But Bob really doesn't want to distract Gerard into an existential tangent, so he goes with what he wants most at the moment. "Frankie's cock."

Ray presses a kiss to the spot below Bob's ear that Gerard had bit earlier, a spot Bob knows will be a dark bruise come morning, is probably already darkening. "What're you going to do once you have it, baby?"

Bob shivers and his eyes slide sideways to where Frank is being held across Mikey's thighs. Mikey's hands are still keeping Frank immobile, the skin under his hands first white, then red as Mikey flexes his fingers. Frank's mouth is open and he's panting, but Mikey is calm, catching Bob's eyes and smiling at him.

"I want..." Bob swallows thickly, wanting to close his eyes, but unable to, not when Gerard, when Mikey and Frank are watching him like they are. It's harder saying what he wants when he has to watch them watching him say it. "I want to taste him, suck him. To... I want what Ray promised."

"What did Ray promise, Bob?" Gerard asks. He runs a hand through Bob's hair as he asks and, when Bob doesn't answer right away, tugs on the loose strands. Bob gasps, his eyes closing at the sensation, and he turns his head to keep feeling the pull. Gerard readjusts his grip and pulls again, sharp and stinging. Perfect. "Bob."

"That Frankie would fuck my mouth, choke me on his cock." The words are easier to say in the darkness, when light flashes behind his eyelids like the lightning on the other side of the hotel shades every time Gerard shifts his grip. Bob can feel his cock stirring. "Please, Gee. Ray promised." He's shaking.

Ray runs soothing hands down Bob's sides again. "I did. And that's exactly what you'll get, baby." He kisses Bob's temple.

"Let go of him, Gerard, Ray," Mikey orders. With one last tug, Gerard and Ray comply. Bob opens his eyes when he sways a little at the loss of their support, but Ray puts a hand to his back to steady him. Bob really doesn't notice it, too caught in the sight of Mikey slowly jerking Frank, of Frank with his head thrown back against Mikey's shoulder, mouth dropped open and eyes squeezed shut, of dark, dark hair and a riot of color overlaying pale, cream skin. Mikey catches Bob's eyes and beckons him forward. "Come here, Bob." He's smiling again.

Bob doesn't need the gentle push Ray gives him, but he's grateful for the way it almost masks his jerky crawl across the bed. He doesn't wait for another order when he reaches them, just reaches out and trails his hand up the outside of Frank's leg, stopping when he can touch them both equally. Bob remembers everything Mikey has told him.

"Hey, Bob," Frank gasps. His greeting is followed by a moan as Mikey pulls from base to tip on his cock in a wicked jerk. "Fuck, Mikey."

Bob watches Mikey jerk Frank for a few more seconds, caught in a flash of thought of that hand on his dick, teasing and knowing. The thought falls to the ether when Frank tugs on a strand of Bob's hair for his attention. When Bob looks up he sees Frank staring at his mouth. "You should totally suck my cock now, Bob."

Bob snorts. "Really? Looks like you've got things pretty good here." He smirks when Frank moans, his hips jerking upward, and Bob helps Mikey hold Frank still. "Hey, Mikey? You gonna let me suck Frank's cock? I mean, you jerking him off onto my face sounds hot, really hot, but I was sort of thinking he could come down my throat."

Frank jerks again with a sound that Bob isn't quite sure how to describe, and his hands come around to grip Mikey's forearms. "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey," Frank babbles.

Mikey stops, teeth biting Frank's throat in admonishment. "Steady, Frank, or you don't get anything." Frank goes completely still and silent, wide eyes set on Bob's face. Bob knows as well as anyone that Mikey is a man of his word, but he honestly wouldn't have thought anything could have stilled Frank like that. Especially not then. "I don't know, Bob. I think Frankie's enjoying himself now. What're you gonna give me?"

"I think we should take him together, Mikeyway," Gerard speaks up before Bob can think of a suitable answer.

Thunder cracks after Gerard's words and, for a moment, Bob wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly. But one look at the hungry expression on Mikey's face tells Bob different. Bob swallows thickly, his brain damn near shorting out. Having Frank fuck his mouth and Mikey and Gerard fuck him together? Fuck yes.

Gerard laughs behind him. "I thought Bob would like that. What do you say, Mikey? If Bob is extra good to Frankie, we give him want he wants?"

Mikey lets go of Frank's cock and grabs Bob by the hair, pulling his head up and back. His smile isn't cruel, but some edge within it sends a chill down Bob's spine. "We're gonna do it anyway, Gee. But if Bob isn't good for Frank, he doesn't get to come."

Frank runs a finger along the exposed line of Bob's throat. "Bob'll be good, Mikeyway. Bob's always good." Frank grips Bob's chin and tilts his head down just enough so he can look Bob in the eye, the angle pulling Bob's hair tight between his scalp and Mikey's hand. Frank grins widely when Bob gasps. "Isn't that right, Bob?"

Bob whimpers, hoping the look in his eyes is answer enough. He can't nod, caught as he is between Frank's and Mikey's hands and his tongue feels like an unwieldy lump of clay in his mouth.

And he does want that, to be good for them, maybe more than he's wanted anything in his life. He has been proving himself to the guys, for the guys, since the moment Brian called him away from Projekt Rev. Bob had thought that he would have been sick of it by now, the constant need to prove, but. There's something about knowing he's already good and making the guys realize it, too. There's that moment they remember, and he has their complete focus despite fans, press, family, everything? When they have to acknowledge him in the way they usually just don't?

Bob loves that. And if they want him to prove that again, now, like this? Bob's down with that, too.

Mikey lets go of Bob's hair and puts his hand back on Frank's hip. "Use his hair, Frank. He likes it."

"Control freak," Frank laughs as he buries both hands in Bob's hair and pulls Bob's head to his cock. Bob's mouth is already open on a moan and Frank's cock slides easily over Bob's tongue, against his palate, and down his throat. Bob closes his eyes, narrowing his world down to just this – the smell, taste, _feel_ of Frank inside of him, almost gentle at first, but quickly gaining speed and force until Bob is dizzy, barely pulling in air before Frank's next tug.

"Fuck. _Bob_." Frank thrusts a few more times, each rougher than the last (Bob can already feel his lips bruising), before he holds Bob's head still. Frank's cock is deep in his throat and Bob can already feel the too-little-air tightness in his chest. He whimpers as he swallows around Frank's cock, wanting him deeper, wanting more.

"Fuck, Bob," Gerard breaths out. He runs a hand along Bob's spine, making Bob's back arch into the touch. "Fuck. Bob, you're so... so. So fucking _pretty_ like this."

Bob moans. He's feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and his thoughts are spinning away from him. He tries not to move, to not fight Frank's hold, because this is what he _wants_ , but he can't stop himself from testing Frank's grip, from pushing back lightly against his hands.

Frank holds him down for another second, two, before dragging Bob completely off his cock. "Damn," he groans when Bob traces his tongue around the head of Frank's cock before Frank pulls his head back down, pulls until his cock is cradled in Bob's throat once more.

"How does he feel, Frankie?" Ray asks. His voice is an octave lower than Bob's ever heard it before, the sound sending a shiver down Bob's spine. Bob hears the familiar drag of slick hand on cock, followed by Ray's low moan and moans himself at the thought of Ray jerking himself off to the sight of Frank fucking his mouth.

"Wet. Hot. _Tight_ ," Frank gasps. "So fucking good, Bob. So, so..." His hips stutter up, pressing his cock hard against the back of Bob's throat. Bob feels himself start to choke, but doesn't fight it, just presses himself down harder, trying to take even more of Frank in, his throat working frantically. Frank curses, voice high, as he comes.

Bob swallows again and again, trying not to lose a drop, but another hand, Mikey's hand is pulling his head up just in time for the last couple of spurts to land on Bob's lips and cheek instead of in his mouth.

Bob opens his eyes to see Frank collapsed against Mikey, chest heaving and eyes half closed, and Mikey watching Bob with that hungry stare.

Mikey's fingers cup Bob's chin and his thumb rubs over Bob's cheek. Bob can feel Frank's spunk smearing, then Mikey's thumb is against his lips, pressing inside. Bob sucks Mikey's thumb, suck it clean each time Mikey presses in, his eyes fluttering, but not falling shut to Mikey's stare.

Then two fingers press deep inside Bob. The first thrust hits his prostate, and Gerard wastes no time returning to that spot again and again. Bob's eyes snap shut as he throws his head back and his spine bows as he tries to press those fingers deeper.

"Gee," he whines, pushing backwards. "Fuck."

Gerard adds another finger with a chuckle. "Like that, huh?"

"Yes, yes," Bob babbles. He'd have liked to think he'd be smoother than this, but. He has Gerard's amazingly talent fingers inside of him, adding to the stretch caused by Ray's cock, and Bob's nerve endings feel like they're on fire. He squeezes around those fingers, trying to keep them inside of him, loving the movement, but loving the fullness more.

"More. Please." Gerard's fingers aren't enough. Bob wants more – wants Gerard and Mikey fucking him.

Gerard adds another finger smoothly, slowly, stopping only when the widest portion of his hand is resting against Bob's hole. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you."

Bob's head drops onto Frank's hip as he tries to catch his breath, any breath. A strong hand, he isn't sure whose, pets through his hair, but that isn't enough to calm, to distract him from Gerard's fingers moving slowly inside of him. Bob pushes back into each thrust, enjoying the way Gerard spreads his fingers on each drag out, then gathers them together to stab unerringly at Bob's prostate on each return.

Bob's never been much of a size queen (he's always been firmly on the 'motion of the ocean' side of the argument), but he's seriously considering changing his mind.

Gerard's thumb brushes against Bob's opening and Bob stills, unsure if he should push back or away. "Gee," he whimpers when the thumb presses lightly against where he's stretched tight around Gerard's fingers.

"Gee, save something for next time," Ray says, his voice breaking through Bob's pleasure-fogged brain as sure as lightning. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Bob's ready to go."

Gerard sighs, sounding terribly put upon, but he pulls his hand back after brushing his thumb against Bob's opening one last time. He keeps one hand on Bob, on his hip, stroking as he shifts backward on the bed. Bob hears the tearing sound of a condom wrapper opening, then Gerard's low moaned, "Fuck, Ray. Your fucking hands," as Ray preps him.

The hand petting Bob's hair changes to a sharp steady tug and pulls Bob's head up so he has to meet Frank's eyes. Frank smirks as he keeps pulling Bob up, until Frank can kiss him, all messy and thrusting tongues. Exactly what Bob imagined kissing Frank would be like.

"Gonna feel so good, Bob, you have no idea," Frank tells him when he finally pushes Bob away. Bob can only pant at him, not even sure if he's still seeing or if it's just his memory supplying the look of impish glee on Frank's face. Bob decides it doesn't really matter when Frank kisses him again, just as messy and sloppy as the first, but somehow sweeter, before Frank pushes Bob back on his heels.

Frank helps Bob turn around to face Gerard, who is leaning back against Ray, and they're both watching Bob greedily. As Frank maneuvers Bob over Gerard's hips, Bob can hear Ray whispering in Gerard's ear that he's "gonna love being inside Bob, Gee. He's hot and tight and he'll take you as deep as you'll want to go."

By then Frank has Bob poised over Gerard's cock, holding him with the head of Gerard's cock pressed against Bob's hole. Frank leans against Bob's back, pressing his lips to Bob's ear like he's going to whisper something dirty to him, but Bob doesn't care to wait anymore. He doesn't get this very often – someone fucking him as deep and as long as he can take it – and it isn't like Bob is the best at waiting when the shit he wants is right in front of him.

So Bob momentarily forgets about the hands on his hips, puts his own on Gerard's shoulders for support, and sinks back onto Gerard's cock. Both Ray's cock and Gerard's prep make it a smooth drag from start to finish, and Bob throws his head back against Frank's shoulder, moaning low in his throat, when Gerard finally bottoms out.

"Fuck, Bob!" Gerard gasps. His hands are on Bob's hips and he pulls Bob forward for a kiss. The movement shifts Gerard's cock inside of him, rubbing it tightly against Bob's prostate. It feels like Gerard is just pushing it over and over again, and Bob whimpers into the kiss.

His hands are clenched where they grip Gerard's shoulders, and Bob wants to move, wants Gerard fucking him hard and fast and deep, but two sets of hands are holding Bob still while Gerard shifts his hips in minute circles. Each shift sends shockwaves of pleasure through Bob's body until he thinks he might just cry from wanting.

Gerard keeps kissing him – as deep and dirty as he's ever kissed Frank on stage – until Bob starts to shake with the need for movement, real movement, _anything_ more than he's getting now. Bob tears his mouth from Gerard's with a harsh, "Please, please, Gee. I can't. I need."

Another hand, Mikey's hand, pulls Bob's head around so that Mikey can kiss him. Bob hadn't even realized Frank had moved or that Mikey had replaced him at Bob's back. Bob leans into him, trying to use the shift to make Gerard _move_ , but Gerard just keeps up his slow, steady, mindblowing, torturous grind. Bob sobs into Mikey's mouth with frustration.

"Sh. Sh, Bob," Gerard whispers, leaning forward so that their chest brush, so he can drag his teeth along the bruise he left on Bob's neck. "We're gonna take care of you. Right, Mikey?"

Mikey hums in agreement, his tongue dragging over Bob's teeth. He pulls back after a moment, pressing his hips against Bob. His cock is hot and hard and slides slick over Bob's ass to where Gerard has Bob spread open.

The air leaves Bob's lungs in a sudden rush when he realizes what they're about to do. He'd almost forgot about their plans, but somehow he hadn't thought they meant _this_. And even if he had, he'd never have thought that he'd want it as much as he does.

Mikey runs a hand down his side as Gerard cups Bob's face with his own. "Hey, hey, Bob." Gerard kisses Bob's cheek then pulls back to smile at him. "Gonna take care of you. Ok?"

Bob blinks slowly for a moment, letting Gerard's words sink in. Then he feels Mikey shift against him, his cock nudging against Bob's hole before retreating again. Bob presses back with a groan. " _Yes_."

"Ok, ok," Gerard says. He kisses Bob's other cheek and stills his hips. Bob whimpers at the loss of movement, and Gerard shushes again. "We're going to go slow, ok?"

"Hold still, Bob," Mikey tells him. There is a second long pause, then Mikey is pressed right against him.

"And breath!" Frank giggles from somewhere off to the side. He sounds far away, though Bob knows he couldn't have gone far.

Bob still has enough presence of mind to flip Frank off, but he takes a deep breath. That's pretty much the last conscious thing he does as Mikey starts pressing in.

At first, Bob isn't sure he can do this – it isn't like either of the Ways are small, and Bob really has never done _this_ before. But Gerard pets him and whispers encouragement against his cheek, and Mikey is telling him just how good Bob feels around him and he doesn't stop, doesn't hesitate, just keeps pressing inside in one long, smooth glide. Bob loves that Mikey takes him at his word, that he doesn't let Bob second guess himself, just gives him what he asked for. Bob loves that almost as much as he loves the feeling of both of them inside of him.

Almost.

Mikey pauses for a moment once he's bottomed out, gives Bob a chance to collect himself. Not that Bob really takes that chance as Gerard distracts him by pulling him forward into another kiss. When Gerard ends the kiss with a sharp nip, Bob is leaning against his chest, his cock trapped between their stomachs, and Bob feels like he is seconds away from exploding.

"Mikey, Mikey, please," Bob gasps. He tries pressing back against him, anything to get him to move, but Mikey is holding fast to Bob's hips, and he can't make even a breath of movement. " _Mikey_."

"Mikeyway, don't be a tease," Ray scolds. Bob can just see him and Frank out of the corner of his eye, over on the other bed, lying on their sides facing them. Bob manages to turn his head enough to watch Ray's first thrust into Frank, and he echoes Frank's keening noise because Mikey has finally started thrusting, and Gerard has re-started his dirty little grinds.

Mikey pulls out until just the head is inside Bob, then he thrusts back in. Every movement is slow, feeling like an eternity and a half, even after Bob starts begging. Bob doesn't know what he's sayings, or even if he is saying anything – he'd actually be surprised if he is managing anything more than nonsensical vowel sounds. Or he would if he could think beyond how good they feel.

It hurts a little, the stretch. Bob's never done this before, but the pain doesn't matter, can't matter when it's presented against the sheer pleasure singing across Bob's nerve endings. His fingers are digging into Gerard's shoulders. He's simultaneously trying to arch back into Mikey's thrusts and forward into Gerard's solidness. Mikey's hands are gripping bruises into Bob's hips. Gerard's are running over Bob's skin and up into his hair, tugging gently until Bob cries out, then they slide back down Bob's spine, nails first.

Just when Bob thinks he can't take anymore, when his breath is just sobs rising directly from his chest, when his vision starts to dim around the edges, Gerard bites his neck and Mikey orders, "Come." directly into Bob's ear. Then Mikey's thrusts finally speed up. Bob wants to hold on, wants to feel this, but his body just can't take anymore. Gerard follows quickly, his moan low and harsh against Bob's skin.

Mikey lasts several more thrusts, each harder, more intense than the last, until he freezes, balls pressed tight against Bob's ass as Mikey grinds out the last of his aftershocks.

Bob's brain is fried enough that he doesn't really feel first Mikey, then Gerard pulling out. He barely even registers the sound of Frank and Ray coming on the other bed. Bob just rests against Gerard, letting him pet him, whisper soothing nonsense against his hair, while Mikey gets up. He's back a few minutes later with washcloths, ibuprofen, and water.

Gerard and Mikey clean Bob up after Mikey forces him up enough to swallow the pills and drink the water. Bob mostly just floats in a haze until he feels the bed dip again, and he's passed over into Ray's waiting arms.

Ray tucks himself close against Bob's back, his lips pressed against Bob's neck, and he hums. The vibrations send a shiver down Bob's spine. "You did so good, baby. So proud of you."

Bob sighs happily and twines one hand with the one Ray has pressed against Bob's stomach. Frank curls himself against Bob's front and kisses him while Mikey and Gerard tuck themselves in behind Frank.

"Told you Bob would be good, Mikeyway," Frank quips after he pulls away from Bob. Bob can feel Mikey roll his eyes. Someone (Bob suspects Mikey, as he's really the only one able to move) pulls the comforter over them and Bob lets himself sink into the warmth.

"Brian is going to kill us when he finds out," he mutters as he starts to slip under.

There's a snort, then Gerard says, "Only because we didn't call him to join in. But if you blow him like you did Frankie, I'm sure he'll forgive you."

Bob wants to say something to that, he does, because something just doesn't seem right about it. Except he's tired and sore in the best possible ways, and his brain is shutting itself down without his permission.

Bob falls asleep to the steady, repetitive noise of the rain falling outside the building. Above the sound of the other's breaths and heartbeats, Bob can just make out the sound of thunder trailing off in the distance.


End file.
